


weathered faces lined in pain

by Broadway_Weirdo



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Billy Hargrove Deserves Better, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internal Conflict, M/M, Not Beta Read, Pre-Relationship, Secret Crush, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:21:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21829654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broadway_Weirdo/pseuds/Broadway_Weirdo
Summary: the silver thorn, and a bloody rosesteve and billy have some serious issuesno romance/relationship/interaction but there is a part that hints at something
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	weathered faces lined in pain

**Author's Note:**

> vincent- don mclean

Steve Harrington has shadows under his eyes, deep dark shadows. You can’t see them from a distance, you can barely see them up close. When he smiles, the shadows fade, so he smiles a lot. These aren’t real smiles, but the shadows can’t tell the difference, Steve can’t tell the difference sometimes. 

The shadows attack him at night, when he’s alone, in his mirror they appear. In his mirror, he stares at his reflection and he can see them clawing at his face, at his thinning hair, at his near visible rib cage. He knows the shadows are winning when he sleeps with the lights on, or when he doesn’t sleep at all. He can feel them gnawing at his skin when he drives to the quarry late at night chasing memories and joy.

Every time he looks at Nancy, he gets pulled deeper into his pit, his tartarus, a never ending crevice of self-pity, guilt, and pure unadulterated hatred. 

He isolates himself, quits his job, quits smoking, drinking, and partying. Buries himself in schoolwork, basketball, tries to tend to the kids but fails. It’s hard to leave the house when you’re always looking over your shoulder.

Every movement sets him on edge, his hands are splintered from his constant grip on his baseball bat, he can’t leave his living room without shaking. His parent’s call once a week now, sometimes coming home for weekends, sometimes leaving for months. It’s confusing and it hurts. 

He has nothing, no one to grab onto as he spirals down. The shadows that were once in his pool, in his town, have contaminated him.

This king has no subjects so he has no crown.

* * *

  
  


Billy Hargrove has shadows under his clothes, colorful shadows. Shades of purple, blue, and yellow. From a distance they paint a pretty picture, up close they’re a horrible truth. 

Billy Hargrove doesn’t smile, he snarls, he smirks, he doesn’t know how to smile, doesn’t want to learn. 

He was young when it started, could barely read or write. Sometimes when he looks in a mirror he sees that boy, curly haired, buck-toothed, and naive. The boy’s skin is unmarred, no burns on his arms or stomach, no scar cutting through his eyebrow, he’s pure. Billy used to be _pure_.

It started on a Sunday, after church (a sick sort of irony). Billy can’t really remember what happened, what the exact trigger was but what he does remember is the noise his head made as it hit the wall. He remembers his mother’s shock, her shout, and her embrace. And he remembers Neils face, a mask of guilt disguising his cruel and twisted exhilaration. 

Ten years later, all Billy really has is his anger. Every time he looks at Max, this anger burns. He can’t explain it, can’t control it, but he wishes he could. He rages against this anger, knowing it’s the one thing he and Neil share, this endless pit of fury. 

Billy Hargrove develops a shell, pushes himself outside of his comfort zone. Sleeps with girls, forgets their names, parties hard, drinks harder, tries to divert his rage, tries to release it into the world without catching fire.

Sometimes he loses his grip and people get hurt. Steve Harrington got hurt.

Steve Harrington, the boy with shadows. Billy sees them, the creatures hidden in his eyes, the brokenness in his face. Billy sees Steve’s pain, recognizes it, and hates himself for it. 

Hates the emotion he felt when he slammed Steve against the wall, hates the warmth he felt in that moment, hates the stupid way he got lost in Steve’s eyes.

He _needs_ Steve Harrington

**Author's Note:**

> thx for reading, happy holidays
> 
> xoxo


End file.
